Amelio scowled down at the little girl, his forehead furrowed with enough frown lines to give his leathery skinned face the appearance of an old baseball mitt given life and a poor attitude. He licked his dry lips and took another short breath. The bleached, ammonia heavy air of the Caduceus center always made his nose wrinkle, and the whining blue lights were giving him a headache. Amelio pulled his seventy five cent lighter and his two thirds empty pack of ‘Faros’ cigarettes out of his suit-jacket pocket and was midway through lighting one when the nurse walked back in.
The younger man in grey-green scrubs shot him a sardonic look and gestured accusingly at the no-smoking sign a foot over Amelio’s shoulder. Amelio coughed a half hearted apology and stuffed the offending materials back into his deep pockets. As the nurse went back over to the little girl, Amelio took a long glance past the curtain. A quiet night as far as he could tell, nobody rushing anywhere, no panicked patients or intense looking doctors staring grimly at charts. No business meant no gun fights tonight. No police raids. Amelio nodded his head at that thought.
He could feel the weight of the miniature pistol strapped to his chest, the gunmetal cold between his shirt and suit. He hadn’t needed it yet, and he prayed to sweet baby jesus that this wasn’t going to be the night to change that. The Kulza gave him a peashooter of a gun, the entire thing small enough to palm in his weathered hand. Not that he felt unarmed, no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. With all the hexes and voodoo shit the Kulza said they put on it Amelio was sure it’d blow half the building apart. And he’d seen some shit too. Puta madre de dios had he seen some shit. Guns shooting lightning, fire, melting cop cars like snowmen, and the gun they gave him they say ‘don’t fire unless you have to’? It had to be some sick joke. The Kulza loved jokes.
When the nurse finally left, Amelio took one more peek past the curtains and then shut them. He looked down at the Yakuza brat and felt the slightest twinge of empathy. She couldn’t be older than thirteen, tops. She was dressed in her street clothes still: rich kid casual. But if the Kulza wanted her? Amelio knew he didn’t want to be the idiot standing in the way. Especially not if he got paid for watching her til’ the pick-up crew came by and carted the poor chica off to god-knows-where. He knew why they wanted her and at this point who didn’t really? Yakuza tyke running around Kulza territory? Nobody says no to a windfall that big. She’d be worth millions, even billions maybe. So long as they kept her alive, anyways.
Amelio put his ear to her mouth and listened for a second. Breathing normally. Finger to the neck. Pulse felt fine. He shook his head, snapped his fingers a few times near her ears and waved his hand in front of her still open eyes. This is some real sleeping beauty shit right here. He almost fell right on top of her when the sounds of squealing tires and broken glass rocked the hospital. Motherfuckers. Could they be any louder? He tossed the girl up over one of his shoulders, and stepped out of the curtains into pure pandamonium.
Not more than a stone’s throw away atop a mountain of glass shards and the remnants of the dividing wall between the waiting room and the treatment center sat a black sports car. It’s rear passenger door popped open, as if on cue as Amelio carefully picked his way through the piles of debris and medical waste.
As he climbed inside and before he had the opportunity to fasten either himself or the unconscious child in his arms into the car it took off, pressing Amelio into the fine leather seats and tossing the girl like a ragdoll onto. As he clawed his way into a position where he could see through the windshield he realized that there wasn’t anyone actually driving the car. As it screamed past the church Amelio got a good look at the way the steering wheel and pedals were moving on their own. Amelio gave a defeated sigh and went about keeping the little tyke from getting too buffeted around, No way they’re paying me enough for this he thought.
Holding onto some product for the Kulza and providing a watchful eye incase the Brookhaven PD showed up was one thing, but this couldn’t be any more out of his wheelhouse. With considerable effort, Amelio hauled himself up into the driver’s seat and buckled himself in just in time to witness an armored police vehicle pull out from a hiding place dead ahead. Before he could hit the brakes, or even grab the wheel the car swung itself around and peeled out in the opposite direction away from a hail of gunfire that rattled holes in the car’s cabin and filled it with whistling lead, miraculously avoiding hitting either him or the still slumbering girl. Amelio swore, with the tank-like truck bearing down from behind and somehow closing the distance, he saw no other alternative. He pulled the deceptively small pistol from out of his jacket and flicked off the safety. Gritting his teeth and holding his breath, Amelio stuck his torso out the driver’s side window pointed the pistol in the general direction of the police and clenched his eyes shut. He pulled the trigger.
Instead of a bang, Amelio heard a light click. The telltale sound of a gun run dry. He looked at it in disbelief for a few moments, until the gunfire hitting nearby snapped him to his senses. In the rear view mirror he could see the truck slowly falling away into the distance, thick black smoke issuing out of it from every crack and panel. And with the suddenness of lightning the car burst into flame.
He took another look at the pistol before putting it, gingerly, back into his pocket. Fucking Kulza.
The younger man in grey-green scrubs shot him a sardonic look and gestured accusingly at the no-smoking sign a foot over Amelio’s shoulder. Amelio coughed a half hearted apology and stuffed the offending materials back into his deep pockets. As the nurse went back over to the little girl, Amelio took a long glance past the curtain. A quiet night as far as he could tell, nobody rushing anywhere, no panicked patients or intense looking doctors staring grimly at charts. No business meant no gun fights tonight. No police raids. Amelio nodded his head at that thought.
He could feel the weight of the miniature pistol strapped to his chest, the gunmetal cold between his shirt and suit. He hadn’t needed it yet, and he prayed to sweet baby jesus that this wasn’t going to be the night to change that. The Kulza gave him a peashooter of a gun, the entire thing small enough to palm in his weathered hand. Not that he felt unarmed, no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. With all the hexes and voodoo shit the Kulza said they put on it Amelio was sure it’d blow half the building apart. And he’d seen some shit too. Puta madre de dios had he seen some shit. Guns shooting lightning, fire, melting cop cars like snowmen, and the gun they gave him they say ‘don’t fire unless you have to’? It had to be some sick joke. The Kulza loved jokes.
When the nurse finally left, Amelio took one more peek past the curtains and then shut them. He looked down at the Yakuza brat and felt the slightest twinge of empathy. She couldn’t be older than thirteen, tops. She was dressed in her street clothes still: rich kid casual. But if the Kulza wanted her? Amelio knew he didn’t want to be the idiot standing in the way. Especially not if he got paid for watching her til’ the pick-up crew came by and carted the poor chica off to god-knows-where. He knew why they wanted her and at this point who didn’t really? Yakuza tyke running around Kulza territory? Nobody says no to a windfall that big. She’d be worth millions, even billions maybe. So long as they kept her alive, anyways.
Amelio put his ear to her mouth and listened for a second. Breathing normally. Finger to the neck. Pulse felt fine. He shook his head, snapped his fingers a few times near her ears and waved his hand in front of her still open eyes. This is some real sleeping beauty shit right here. He almost fell right on top of her when the sounds of squealing tires and broken glass rocked the hospital. Motherfuckers. Could they be any louder? He tossed the girl up over one of his shoulders, and stepped out of the curtains into pure pandamonium.
Not more than a stone’s throw away atop a mountain of glass shards and the remnants of the dividing wall between the waiting room and the treatment center sat a black sports car. It’s rear passenger door popped open, as if on cue as Amelio carefully picked his way through the piles of debris and medical waste.
As he climbed inside and before he had the opportunity to fasten either himself or the unconscious child in his arms into the car it took off, pressing Amelio into the fine leather seats and tossing the girl like a ragdoll onto. As he clawed his way into a position where he could see through the windshield he realized that there wasn’t anyone actually driving the car. As it screamed past the church Amelio got a good look at the way the steering wheel and pedals were moving on their own. Amelio gave a defeated sigh and went about keeping the little tyke from getting too buffeted around, No way they’re paying me enough for this he thought.
Holding onto some product for the Kulza and providing a watchful eye incase the Brookhaven PD showed up was one thing, but this couldn’t be any more out of his wheelhouse. With considerable effort, Amelio hauled himself up into the driver’s seat and buckled himself in just in time to witness an armored police vehicle pull out from a hiding place dead ahead. Before he could hit the brakes, or even grab the wheel the car swung itself around and peeled out in the opposite direction away from a hail of gunfire that rattled holes in the car’s cabin and filled it with whistling lead, miraculously avoiding hitting either him or the still slumbering girl. Amelio swore, with the tank-like truck bearing down from behind and somehow closing the distance, he saw no other alternative. He pulled the deceptively small pistol from out of his jacket and flicked off the safety. Gritting his teeth and holding his breath, Amelio stuck his torso out the driver’s side window pointed the pistol in the general direction of the police and clenched his eyes shut. He pulled the trigger.
Instead of a bang, Amelio heard a light click. The telltale sound of a gun run dry. He looked at it in disbelief for a few moments, until the gunfire hitting nearby snapped him to his senses. In the rear view mirror he could see the truck slowly falling away into the distance, thick black smoke issuing out of it from every crack and panel. And with the suddenness of lightning the car burst into flame.
He took another look at the pistol before putting it, gingerly, back into his pocket. Fucking Kulza.